


I'll Be Your Hands

by Kendal_Lynne



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam becomes obsessed with Ronan's hands, Adam-Centric, Alternative First Time, Alternatively Titled: Adam Parrish In His Feelings, Basically a lot of hand-worship, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hand Kink, M/M, Massages, Mutual Pining, Semi-Slow Burn, Takes Place During BLLB, Which is Canon haha, canon-divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:18:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendal_Lynne/pseuds/Kendal_Lynne
Summary: The next thing Adam felt was Ronan's hands grip the tops of his shoulders. The shock of 1) being touched at all 2) being touched by Ronan Lynch of all people, nearly caused Adam to jump out of his chair."Relax Parrish, shit. Has no one ever given you a massage before?" he asked."Is that a serious question, Lynch?" Adam asked back, incredulous.





	I'll Be Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Since Ronan is obsessed with Adam's hands, I thought it was only fair to write 5K of Adam being obsessed with Ronan's hands. This may feel a bit OOC as I'm not sure Ronan would ever offer to give Adam a massage in the books, and yet here we are. Let's roll with it.

Ronan was at St Agnes that night, because, well… Adam wasn't exactly sure when Ronan spending the night at his place started to become a "thing." The first time he did it, it felt random, like a fluke. Adam watched Ronan stretch out on floor, seemingly intent on sleeping, and called him out on it, because there's no way in hell spending the night on hardwood floor planks could possibly be more comfortable than Ronan's actual bed at Monmouth. 

But then Ronan gave him a small, quiet confession, that he had recently pulled a wasp out of one of his dreams. He'd managed to kill it before it left his bedroom, but the very reality of seeing it buzz around under the same roof that Gansey slept had shaken him to his core. Adam was so floored that Ronan had opened up to him about something so sacred, he didn't know how to respond. So, he didn't-he just handed Ronan a spare blanket and said goodnight.

Sometimes Ronan crashed there when he claimed he was too tired to drive back to Monmouth, which struck Adam as silly because Ronan hardly ever passed up the opportunity to drive anywhere, no matter the hour, and he also seemed to hate the act of sleeping as much as he hated going to school-which was, to say, a lot. 

But because Ronan and Adam fought about so many things so much of the time, Adam decided he was going to pick and choose his battles. Not to mention, Adam had never shared a room with anyone before-not a sibling or a friend or a lover. He never even had a proper sleepover. As much as he valued his solitude away from his family's trailer-park, he couldn't deny the enjoyment he got from having company at night.

Even if that company was Ronan Lynch.

Tonight, Ronan was lying on his bed, tossing and catching an old baseball he found in the church's parking lot. Adam was stationed at his desk, as usual, burning the midnight oil at both ends as he tried in vain to complete an English essay and his math homework simultaneously. The steady sound of Ronan catching the baseball in his hands was almost soothing, instead of annoying, which most of Ronan's favorite pastimes ended up being. Adam was grateful for that, at least.

But then the sound stopped. 

"Your back must hurt, like, all the time" Ronan drawled.

"It does. Wait. What?" Adam asked, tearing his eyes away from his homework to look at Ronan. Ronan, who was of course, already looking back at him.

"Your posture is shit; your shoulders are so tense they're practically touching your ears and that sorry excuse for a chair looks more like a medieval torture device" Ronan told him "It's painful to look at."

"Then look away, no one is forcing you to stare at me like a creep" the words were out of Adam's mouth before he could stop them. He's called Ronan worse before, sure, but this felt oddly personal. He didn't actually mind Ronan's eyes on him. What made him defensive was the feeling of being judged by those eyes in a less than complementary way. 

He knew his posture was shit, his back was fucked, and his chair was a literal piece of garbage. But he also knew he had to choose his battles in life and these weren't ones he could afford to take on right now. So he squared his tense shoulders and soldiered on. 

If Ronan was offended by Adam's words, he didn't show it. Instead, he dropped the baseball on the floor and climbed off the bed. He walked up behind Adam. The next thing Adam felt was Ronan's hands grip the tops of his shoulders. The shock of 1) being touched at all 2) being touched by Ronan Lynch of all people, nearly caused Adam to jump out of his chair. 

"Relax Parrish, shit. Has no one ever given you a massage before?" he asked.

"Is that a serious question, Lynch?" Adam asked back, incredulous. 

"My mom used to rub my shoulders all the time when I was younger" Ronan explained, as quietly as he once told Adam about dream wasps, "S'not that weird." 

Then, as if to demonstrate, Ronan gently but firmly pressed his thumbs into Adam's tense shoulder-blades-immediately mapping out all the muscular knots that lived there. 

Adam almost jumped again at the sensation, but this time he was pleasantly surprised to discover how good it felt.

Ronan, of course, immediately misinterpreted his reaction and dropped his hands. 

"Sorry, I shouldn't have-" 

"No, you just startled me. You can… a little more. If you want" Adam barely stammered out, feeling his cheeks going red but also feeling confident that Ronan couldn't see his face from this angle. 

He was still having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that Ronan Lynch, whether or not his perceived crush on Adam was a real thing, was willingly touching him in a way that didn't involve rough-housing or grocery cart adventures. 

He had seen rare but solid evidence of Ronan being gentle and attentive to others before-the way he pulled Matthew into a goodbye hug as they parted ways after Sunday mass or the way he ruffled Chainsaw's feathers as she nuzzled her beak against his face-but he never anticipated what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of those types of physical touches.

It wasn't a Ronan-thing, it was purely an Adam-thing. An Adam-hang-up, if you will. His mother never rubbed his shoulders as a child. He barely remembers being hugged or kissed. His father, for all his faults, used to occasionally slap an encouraging, heavy hand on Adam's shoulder when he learned to successfully rotate tires or completed his first oil change. But those types of touches were few and far between-cancelled out one too many times by closed fists.

Before Adam had a chance to delve deeper into his fucked up psychological history of being touched and what it all meant, Ronan had quietly placed his hands back onto Adam's shoulders. 

Ronan's hands alternated in pressure across Adam's shoulders and upper-back. Slow and deep circular motions danced across his shoulder-blades, stopping occasionally to focus on a particularly painful muscle knot-applying just enough pressure for the knot to release. 

Adam's head subconsciously tipped forward, his chin coming down to his chest, when Ronan's hands moved to work the spot where his neck met his shoulders-then up to where his neck met the bottom of his skull. 

Adam released a long-built up exhale in the form of a sigh when Ronan's skilled hands moved back down to his shoulders, continuing to find release in his tight muscles.

Seemingly encouraged by this, Ronan's hands got bolder. They began to slip lower down his back, over his threadbare t-shirt, applying steady pressure along the dip of his spine. 

This time, Adam jumped in his seat again.

"That hurt?" Ronan asked quietly.

"No, my low back's just a little tender" Adam explained, "Felt good, though." 

"You could always…" Ronan trailed off.

Ronan was never at a loss for words. It was intriguing to say the least.

"Always what?"

"If you wanted me to do your low back, you could always lie down on the mattress so I can reach easier. Could probably get deeper too" Ronan told him.

The combination of hearing "want me" "lie down" "mattress" and "get deeper" in such quick succession was almost too much for Adam to handle.

"No, that's okay! I mean, you've already done enough. But, thank you. Seriously. It feels better" Adam told him.

Ronan's hands stayed on his shoulders for a moment longer before dropping down back at Ronan's sides.

"Sure. Anytime, man" Ronan told him, sounding dejected and maybe a little embarrassed.

Adam did his best to refocus his attentions on his essay. He thought for a few tense moments that Ronan may make up some excuse and storm out like he used to do. But a few seconds later, the sound of Ronan tossing and catching the baseball returned, allowing Adam to slip back into his work trance.

Xxxxxxxx

It was ridiculous, seriously ridiculous, but Adam could not believe how much better his back was feeling in the days after Ronan had given him a massage. They of course never mentioned or even acknowledged the fact that this physical act transpired between them-not when they were alone and certainly not when they were around Gansey and Blue-but just because they didn't talk about it didn't mean the electric charge wasn't reignited every time their hands accidentally brushed at Nino's or they caught each other's eye in Latin.

The thing was, Adam couldn't stop thinking about it. It was so unexpected and selfless of Ronan to just offer himself up like that to Adam…like some sort of sacrifice…

Or perhaps it wasn't that at all. Perhaps it was not as monumental or extraordinary as Adam was making it out to be in his head, but that didn't change the fact that it was consuming his every waking thought.

The way Adam rationalized it-the way he had to rationalize it, for his own sanity's sake, was that he was so damn starved for human touch that any type of physical affection would send him reeling. The fact that it was Ronan of all people and that he didn't ask for anything in return-hell, he'd offered even more… 

Was Adam a fool for turning him down? In the moment, it felt like too much-too much touching, too much intimacy, too much Ronan… but after three days of being able to think of little else but how good Ronan's hands felt on his own body, he was starting to change his mind. 

Before he could vocalize this to Ronan, however, the two of them predictably squabbled about something (homework and the future and 'Well fuck you, Parrish') that resulted in a fight. After his shift at Boyd's, he found the hand lotion in his car, marked 'manibus.' 

He waited until he was back above St Agnes, somewhat hopeful that Ronan would still show up. He didn't.

Instead, Adam took as long a shower as the hot water heater would allow, scrubbing the remnants of oil or gasoline from his skin. His hands were always the most chapped after he washed them and rubbed them dry with a coarse towel. Tonight, he refused to continue to suffer. 

He opened up the container of lotion and was immediately hit with the comforting smell of Cabeswater, a mixture of moss and rain. The relief Adam felt when he worked the healing lotion into his chapped hands was as instantaneous as it was overwhelming. He sighed in relief as he worked a small amount into his skin, a tingling sensation shooting down his spine as he identified another scent-something so indescribably Ronan that he couldn't put into words what exactly it was. 

Experimentally, Adam placed his hands on his bare low back, right above where his towel was still secured from his shower. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the bathroom door, and tried to imagine Ronan's hands on him. He pressed his fingers into his tight muscles and tried to mimic Ronan's actions from earlier that week. But not even Ronan's magic hand lotion could disguise the fact that it was Adam's hands and not Ronan's, or that the angle was all kinds of wrong and Adam's hands weren't nearly as skilled. He gets frustrated almost immediately and gives up. 

He briefly entertains the idea of using the lotion in a less than holy way, but something about living above a church-not just any church, but Ronan's church, stops him. 

Adam goes to bed that night - alone, tense, and frustrated. But at least his hands aren't chapped for once. 

Xxxxxxxx

The next day, Ronan's not at school. Adam would be annoyed, except for that fact that Ronan shows up later in the parking lot outside of Boyd's, propped up against his BMW like some sort of super model. He swings his keys around his finger in a way that shouldn't be legal, but somehow is. 

"Need a lift?" he asks, as if he doesn't already know the answer. 

It sounds like a cheesy line from a romance novel or maybe some really poorly scripted porn, so Adam doesn't dignify it with a response. Instead, he wheels his bike over and loads it in the BMW's trunk. 

"I haven't eaten yet" Adam tells him, as if Ronan hasn't already drawn this conclusion. 

"Food's in the car" Ronan responds, sliding into the driver's seat. 

It's as close as the two of them would get to an apology over their last fight. 

Adam slides into the passenger seat and immediately stuffs his face with a handful of fries.

They don't talk on the way back. The silence is almost unbearable until Ronan mercifully turns on the radio, which is already turned up to its usual eardrum-busting volume. If Adam didn't know to anticipate this, he would have yelped for sure. 

Instead, he settled back into his seat and tried his best to casually sneak glances at Ronan's hands-the way his fingers loosely curled around the steering wheel or moved down to grip gear shift. 

Adam stuffed more fries in his mouth. 

Xxxxxxxx

Later that night found Adam propped up on his bed, conjugating Latin verbs. Ronan was busy trying to perfect the art of balancing on two out of four chair legs, despite Adam's insistence that he wouldn't help Ronan when he inevitably fell and smashed his head open.

"What's life without a little danger, Parrish?" Ronan had asked with a mischievous smirk. 

Adam did he best to complete his homework, he did, but at some point in the night, he just sort of snapped. The tension in the room, whether or not Ronan could actually feel it too, was threatening to cut him in half. 

Adam wasn't particularly proud of what he did next-- then again, it worked like a charm, so he really couldn't be too upset with himself.

Adam casually reached a hand behind him and rubbed his lower back in a way that he hoped looked natural as he put on a bit of a wincing face. 

"Still hurting?" Ronan asked a few moments later.

"Hmm?" Adam asked, feigning innocence.

"Your back" he said.

"Oh. Yeah, it always feels a bit tweaked after a shift at Boyd's" Adam said. He didn't elaborate. He was hoping Ronan would meet him half-way. More than hoping. 

"You done with your homework?" Ronan asked. 

"Just about" Adam replied with a shrug. 

"When you're finished, I can work on it a bit" Ronan said casually.

"My homework?" Adam asked dumbly. 

"Christ, Parrish. Keep up. Your back." 

At this point, Ronan grew preoccupied with biting on the leather bands around his wrist, causing his words to become muffled.

"I mean, I don't wanna force you" Adam replied, feeling increasingly awkward at how much he wanted to yell 'YES PLEASE NOW.'

"Who's forcing? I just offered" Ronan told him. 

"Okay" Adam said, putting his notebook down "Well, I'm done now. So."

"Great" Ronan said. It was maybe sarcastic, Adam wasn't a hundred percent sure. But Ronan jumped up fast enough to join him on the bed, so he took that as a good sign.

"So I should just…" Adam made a 'roll over' motion with his hand.

"Unless you want me to massage your back through your stomach" Ronan quipped.

Adam made a point of rolling his eyes at him as he moved to lie on his stomach, suddenly feeling weirdly vulnerable. He moved his arms up to use as a makeshift pillow for his head, causing his t-shirt to ride up his back. 

"Do you, uh, have that stuff I got you?" Ronan asked quietly "The lotion, or whatever?"

Adam felt himself blush against his arms. He had been under the impression that neither of them were ever going to discuss Ronan's latest gift. He wondered if Ronan was blushing too.

"Yeah, it's in the desk drawer" he said. 

Adam held his breath as he felt Ronan get off the bed and retrieve the lotion. As he resituated himself on the mattress, he cleared his throat.

"You should probably take your shirt off, so it doesn't get dirty" Ronan told him. 

Adam didn't respond, just quickly sat up long enough to pull off the offending fabric, before lying back down. Perhaps a little too eagerly, but Ronan didn't comment on it. 

Adam immediately thought about the freckles along his shoulders. He wondered what Ronan thought of them, if he thought anything at all. But before he could obsess further, he heard the jar open.

Because Adam couldn't see Ronan, he had to imagine what was happening behind him. He envisioned Ronan opening the container of lotion, scooping out a generous amount, and warming it in between his hands. 

And then finally, those hands found their way to Adam's low back. It felt so amazing that Adam felt his eyes roll back into his head. It took everything inside of him to not making any encouraging noises. He focused entirely on making his breathing sound as normal as possible.

Adam could tell by the angle and amount of pressure Ronan was using that he must have moved up to his knees in order to go as deep into the muscles as he needed to. 

"How's this?" he gruffed out.

"S'good" Adam told him, cursing his Henrietta accent for slipping out.

"Too much pressure?" Ronan asked.

"Nah, you can go deeper" Adam told him. 

As Ronan did what he asked, Adam let out a relaxed sigh, basking in how good it felt for someone to touch him in this way. He always heard that skin to skin contact was healing, but he honestly just thought that was hippy bullshit. But Ronan's touch, combined with the peaceful scent of the Cabeswater lotion, was sending Adam on a dopamine trip he hoped wouldn't end anytime soon.

"You're good at this" Adam said quietly, hoping a little encouragement would prolong the experience. 

Ronan didn't verbally respond, just huffed out a breath that Adam couldn't distinguish between a laugh or a sigh without seeing his face. 

Subconsciously, Adam spread his legs a little, adjusting his hips against the mattress in an attempt to sink further into his relaxed state. But instead the action causes a tightening sensation low in his belly, sending warning signs through his brain. 

Fuck. It was really, really important for Adam to not get a boner while his friend gave him an innocent massage in an apartment above said friend's catholic church. And yet, here he was, at half-mast pressing into his shitty mattress and getting harder by the second. Blissfully, he was on his stomach so Ronan had no idea. He hoped. He prayed. 

A few minutes into this newfound torture, Ronan spoke up.

"You're tensing up again, Parrish. Relax. I got you" he told him without a hint of sarcasm or jest.

The next thing Adam knew, Ronan was straddling the back of his thighs for better access. Once he was situated hoovering above Adam without actually sitting on him, he used his new vantage point to drag his hands up and down the expanse of Adam's entire back, as if that would get the other boy to relax at all-when in reality, all Adam could think about was how easy it be would for Ronan to press his entire body against his, how good he imagined the weight of Ronan's hips pressing against Adam's ass would feel. He imagined how much they'd both enjoy the sensation of rutting against each other, how fast they'd both get off. He suddenly wanted it so badly he felt unhinged. 

He couldn't help but think--was this what every touch-starved person felt after finally being touched for the first time, or was this some insane Cabeswater connection running through their blood, forcing Adam to desire Ronan in such a desperate way? Or was it, as Adam was beginning to suspect, nothing that nefarious or magical at all. Maybe it was just him and just Ronan and that was enough. 

Adam rocked his hips against his bed again, as subtly as he could manage. He prayed Ronan wouldn't notice (a part of him also prayed that he did). 

"This still okay?" Ronan asked.

"Mmhm" Adam sighed "I like your hands."

Adam felt Ronan's hands stutter to a stop at his words. Then the hands were gone completely. He was about to ask what was wrong, when the hands were suddenly returned to his back with more of the lotion-allowing them to glide up and down his back with less friction. 

Neither boy spoke for the next few minutes. Adam became acutely aware of Ronan's breath getting more labored the longer he worked, which embarrassingly only got him harder as a result. Every voice in his head was suddenly replaced with the single thought: "Ronan." 

Ronan's hands, Ronan's breath, Ronan's eyes, Ronan's body, Ronan's mouth…

He repeated his name in his head, over and over, like a prayer. With every drag of Ronan's hands down his back, Adam felt his own hips tip forward into the mattress. As Ronan increased the pace and intensity of his strokes, Adam sensed his own breathing speeding up. With every exhale of Ronan's breath on the back on Adam's neck, the tightening in Adam's stomach increased.

Soon, Adam felt himself hitting the point of no return and losing all rational thought telling him why letting this continue would be the worst thing to ever happen. 

All it took was one final swipe of Ronan's talented hands coming down to squeeze Adam's hips, his thumbs pressing deeply into the curve of his spine right above his ass, for Adam to snap. 

"Ronan, shit" Adam breathed out before biting into his own arm so hard it was sure to leave a mark.

Above him, Ronan froze-- letting out a soft litany of curses as he no doubt figured out what had happened. He was off Adam in an instant, pacing around like a chicken with his head cut off.

Adam was immediately hit with a wave of sudden and paralyzing embarrassment. He was at a complete loss of words, he didn't even know where he'd start with trying to deny what happened.

But then, before he could literally die of embarrassment, Ronan up and bailed-all but slamming the door behind him in a mad dash to get as far away from Adam as possible. 

Xxxxxxxx

Ronan doesn't show up to school for the next two days. On the first day, Adam was relieved, because he didn't have the heart to face him or to explain to dear Gansey why the two were on the outs, yet again. There was really only so much fighting between his two best friends that he could tolerate and Adam tried his best to remember that. 

But by the second day, Adam managed to move on from embarrassed to anxious. He actually wanted Ronan to show up just to get the whole uncomfortable ordeal over with, so they could start the process of moving on. Surely Ronan wasn't going to ignore him forever…was he?

By the third day, Ronan is a no-show for first period and Adam, fed up, makes a decision. After feigning a terrible stomach ache ten minutes into class, he got permission from the nurse to take a sick day and promptly rode his bike over to Monmouth. 

After bursting through the unlocked door (these irresponsible boys would be the death of all of them), he marched up to Ronan's room. The door was predictably shut. Adam almost strode right through, before deciding the decent thing to do would be knock at least once.

By the third persistent knock, the door swung open to reveal a seriously pissed off Ronan Lynch, dressed in grey sweats and a black muscle shirt, his oversized headphones wrapped around his neck.

"Noah, the fuck is your-" he trails off when he sees Adam; his demeanor softening incrementally. "Why aren't you in Latin?"

"Because I'm here. Why aren't you in Latin?" Adam asked.

"You don't skip school" Ronan told him. 

Adam shrugged.

"First time for everything, I guess" Adam said.

"What do you want, Adam?" Ronan asked. There was hardly any heat behind his words, despite the deep furrow of his brow. Like he was actually asking the question and not just barking out aggression for the sake of it.

"Are you…are you mad at me?" Adam asked.

"What?" 

"Or do you, like, hate me?" Adam tried again.

"Why the hell would I hate you?" He asked, brows furrowing further.

"Because of what happened. Because you just left and now you aren't coming to school and you're looking at me like…like…" Adam trailed off, not realizing how emotional he was until he almost got chocked up. 

With a frustrated growl, Ronan lunged forward-- pushing Adam firmly but gently against the door-jam--crowding his personal space. He pressed his forehead against Adam's and released a heavy sigh.

"I don't fucking hate you, Parrish. It's actually really annoying how un-hateable you are."

Adam huffed out a little laugh, relieved.

"Really?" he asked.

Ronan nods, eyes closed-the movement causing their noses to brush against each other.

"Adam-"

It was all the encouragement Adam needed to tilt his head up, closing the gap between their lips. 

While Adam initiated the kiss, he found himself surrendering to Ronan almost immediately. Ronan kissed him slowly, but deeply and intensely. Adam always assumed that Ronan would kiss like a hurricane-a mess of rage and urgency and chaos. But in reality, it was more of a tidal wave-drawing you in and then knocking you out with its power. 

Adam felt his knees buckle, prompting him to grip the sides of Ronan's face for stability. In response, Ronan dug his hands into Adam's hips, bringing their bodies closer together the deeper they kissed. 

Needing more still, Adam brought a leg up to hook around Ronan's waist. Ronan quickly got the message and brought his hands down to Adam's ass, easily lifting him up so Adam could properly wrap his legs around him.

They kept kissing as Ronan walked them over to his bed, gently depositing Adam onto his back. Adam gasped for air as Ronan greedily moved his lips across his jaw and down his neck. He responded by sliding his hands underneath Ronan's tank, dragging his fingertips down the lines of the tattoo that he knew was there. 

"Ro, I want…" but he didn't have to finish his sentence, because Ronan was already pushing back on to his knees long enough to pull the offending material off him, flinging it off the bed. Adam took advantage of this new position-he gripped Ronan's hips and dragged them down against his, while he rolled his hips up to create a delicious friction. 

"Fuck" Ronan groaned. 

Adam moved a hand up to run his fingers over Ronan's abdomen, watching in wonder as the muscles tightened in response.

"Get up here" Ronan panted.

Adam weakly pushed himself up into a seated position so Ronan could help him remove the too-many-layers of his Aglionby uniform. At one point, reality seemed to sink in for Ronan. He stopped moving and just stared at Adam, panting.

"Is this real?" he asked him.

"Yes."

Ronan shook his head.

"You always say that. How do I know…"

Without breaking eye contact, Adam laid back on to the bed and began to unbuckle his belt.

"Adam…" Ronan began, mistaking his actions.

"Just trust me" Adam told him.

He pushed his pants and boxers down just enough to reveal a raised scar low on Adam's hip. He took Ronan's hand, pressing his fingers against the scar usually covered by his clothes. 

"Feel this?" Adam asked.

Ronan nodded.

"Did you know that was there before now?" 

Ronan shook his head. Adam wraps his other hand around the back of Ronan's neck, bringing him down to kiss him.

"Then you couldn't have dreamt it, could you?" he whispered against his lips.

Ronan kissed him back with a renewed energy and need. He stretched his body across Adam's, so they were lined up and pressed against each other, bare chest to bare chest. 

Adam reveled in every movement of Ronan's mouth, the way his hands explored his body fearlessly, the jolt of pleasure he got with every roll of his hips against his. 

Soon, Adam felt Ronan's hands curl around the top of his pants, already partially pushed down his hips.

"Can I touch you?" he asked against Adam's lips.

"Please" was Adam's breathy response, lifting his hips just enough for Ronan to pull them down. 

Ronan didn't hesitant to grip his aching cock in his hand. Adam couldn't even let himself be embarrassed that he was already leaking all over him. He was so overstimulated, he knew this wouldn't last long. It suddenly made him desperate for another type of touch. 

Adam's hands moved to the top of Ronan's sweatpants.

"Can I? I wanna touch you too" he panted.

"Fuck yes, anything you want" Ronan told him.

Adam yanked his sweatpants down, delighted to find Ronan naked beneath them. He gripped Ronan's cock in his hand, relishing in its weight and hardness. He knocked Ronan's hand off of him so he could grip their cocks in one hand, lining them up and jerking them off together.

Ronan let out a litany of 'fucks' as he hung his head to watch Adam's hand move to get them off. He nearly whimpered when Adam swiped his thumb over their leaking heads, using the pre-cum to lubricate his movements further. 

"Does that feel good?" Adam asked, as if he didn't know himself. 

"Christ, yes. Nothing's ever felt this good." 

"Want you to cum first. Wanna watch. Wanna feel it" Adam told him.

"God Adam, you can't say shit like that."

"Please, Ronan. Please please please" he whispered.

"Shit, fucking fuck" were the graceful words that tumbled from Ronan's lips as he canted his hips forward and came.

Ronan looked absolutely wrecked above Adam, would couldn't look away from the other boy's face. He barely recovered when he suddenly knocked Adam's hand away and gripped him with his own.

"My turn" Ronan said with a wicked, breathless grin. 

Adam let his hands fall on either side of his head, more than happy to surrender himself over to the boy above him. 

Ronan made quick work to bring Adam off as swiftly as possible, greedy to watch him find release in the same way he just had.

Adam panted wildly beneath Ronan, feeling as reckless as he did safe. This time when he found his release, he felt no shame or embarrassment. It was simply perfect. 

Later, after Ronan had graciously retrieved a washcloth to clean them off, the two boys laid side by side, facing each other and almost impossible close in a tangle of limbs. At first, they spoke only in chaste kisses and soft touches, learning the parts of each other they hadn't known before.

"So" Adam began at last.

"So" Ronan agreed, brushing his lips across Adam's forehead.

"To recap, I'm un-hateable and you like me a lot" Adam told him.

Ronan shrugged, a move that would have read more 'non-chalant' if it wasn't paired with Ronan pulling Adam even closer into a cuddle.

"You're alright most days" he replied.

"You're alright most days, too" Adam said, "And the rest of the days, you're pretty wonderful." 

Ronan smiled a genuine smile, unlike anything Adam had seen before.

"I won't tell anyone if you don't" Ronan told him.

Adam tilted his head up to kiss him again, because there was nothing stopping him from doing so anymore. 

"Deal" he said.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still trying to work out these characters' voices and whatnot in my head, so I sort of think this is garbage, but I wrote it, so may as well post it. I've been a longtime admirer of this fandom and the quality of work that's been produced, so here's my attempt at giving back.


End file.
